Page 104 of The Love You Fight For
She looks a little shocked, but she recovers quickly.
“Did Chris tell you?”
“No,” I say quickly. “Someone who works for my father said something, and then I did some digging.”
“Okay. Is that all?”
“No.”
I take a deep breath and make sure not to break eye contact. I make sure I’m mask-free so she can see every ounce of honesty on my face.
“I know there is nothing I can do or say to undo the damage and pain that my family has caused you. I know that no apology from me will fix it, but I am sorry. I am sorry, and I want you to know that I’m going to make him pay. Not just for what he did to you, but for every single thing he’s done. I’m going to make sure he burns for all of it, and I won’t stop until he’s ruined.”
Her eyes widen, then fill up with tears. She nods slowly.
“I hope you do,” she says.
“I, um, I also want you to know that I’m in love with your brother. I know I don’t deserve him. I don’t deserve your forgiveness either, but I’m going to earn it. I’m going to be someone who is worthy of him.”
Tears of my own start to fall, mirroring hers, and fuck, my heart hurts. Feeling something this strongly fucking hurts, but I’m welcoming it.
“Does he know that?” she asks, and I shake my head.
“Not yet. But I’ll be ready to tell him soon.”
We stand there and stare at each other for a moment. Both of us crying, neither of us moving, until someone screams “MOM!” through the door. I force a laugh.
“I should go. But I wanted to tell you that. I wanted you to hear it from me.”
She nods again, but she doesn’t say anything, so I tell her goodbye, and then I head back to my car. As I’m opening my door, Tiffany calls out to me, and I freeze.
“Thank you for not trying to throw money at us as a quick fix,” she says, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Honestly, if I thought you would accept it, I would have.”
She laughs, too, and I feel lighter as I wave and drive away.
I check the clock on my dash. My next meeting is on Main Street in thirty minutes, so I take the long way to stay hidden and park several blocks away. I wait in my car for twenty minutes, then make the walk to the empty building nestled between the grocery store and a flower shop.
I push through the door and the bell chimes above me. A woman standing in the middle of the space looks up from a clipboard and smiles.
“Ms. Harper. Right on time.”
It’s7:15 p.m. on the dot when I step out of my building and onto the sidewalk.
Such an obedient little pet.
Ashton’s car is waiting, and his driver opens the door for me so I can climb inside.
“Samantha,” Ashton greets without glancing up from his phone.
“Ashton.”
Finally, he looks up at me with that slimy, predatory grin. Genetics. He gets it from his father.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
He scans his eyes over me, lingering on my lips, then on the curve of my breasts before falling to my hemline. I’m showing cleavage tonight, which I never do, and my dress is shorter than usual. I feel like a high-end prostitute.
